


Brothers

by TheDarkLordMegatron



Series: Zine Pieces [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Best Friends, Brotherly Affection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eos Compendium Zine, Friendship, Mild Hurt/Comfort, brothers in arms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:41:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23630239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkLordMegatron/pseuds/TheDarkLordMegatron
Summary: The death and suffering he was about to bring upon his people with the upcoming farce of a treaty would haunt him in the remainder of this life and the next, but with his brothers by his side, he would face it all with his head held high.It was the least he could do for two men who had given so much without ever asking for something in return.(My piece for the Eos Compendium Zine!)
Relationships: Clarus Amicitia & Cor Leonis & Regis Lucis Caelum, Noctis Lucis Caelum & Regis Lucis Caelum
Series: Zine Pieces [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1505765
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Brothers

He remembered the day his son was born as though it was yesterday.

The panicked call from Clarus when he discovered his wife and Aulea swaying through a contraction in their living room, followed by increasingly alarming texts from his Shield as he escorted the Queen to the hospital.

The wreckage of the Regalia, her front bumper wrapped around a lamppost and the subsequent destruction of his driving license at Cor’s hands when they had both stumbled from the vehicle. 

Aulea’s almighty lecture about traffic safety and the need to actually pay attention to the road. If he hadn’t been utterly besotted with her prior to that moment, he was desperately in love as she continued to playfully insult and taunt him up until their son announced his arrival with an almighty scream.

He remembered standing in the window of Aulea’s hospital room as she slept, his son cradled against his chest wrapped up in a blanket Cor vehemently denied having knitted himself. His son, and hadn’t that been a terrifying and wonderful thought, simply stared up at him with the brightest blue eyes and gurgled. Noctis they called him, named after the late hour of his arrival and the dark tufts of hair atop his head. A fitting name for a future King of Lucis, for his child.

“I will protect you,” Regis had whispered against Noctis’ forehead, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill over when a tiny hand touched his beard. “You, my precious little one, are so very loved.” So long as his heart still beat in his chest, Noctis would never know the pain of growing up deprived of his father’s love. He would never have his childhood stolen from him, nor would he spend countless nights curled up on his bed with tears in his eyes, questioning why he had been brought into a world that did not care about it. 

Then three days after the birth his happy life came crashing down around him when Aulea was discovered dead in the shower. Complications from the birth that had gone unnoticed the doctors claimed, an assassin Clarus had mournfully informed him a few weeks later. The world and life he had envisioned for his little family were gone, and Noctis, his sweet innocent Noctis, was forced to live without his mother, without even a memory of her smile. Left in the care of a father who could never give him as much love and affection as he deserved. 

The promise of making sure his son was loved was broken before his sons first birthday and Regis hated himself for it.

Standing atop the Citadel’s staircase, watching his son and the three boys he had come to consider his own, drive out of view, Regis allowed himself to shed a few silent tears. It would be unacceptable for the King to be seen on his knees, cursing the Gods for their cruelty and mourning the fates of his son and people. Instead, he remained on his feet, watching Cor as he ascended the stairs.

“You’ll watch over him for me, won't you? Guide him when I cannot?” He questioned quietly once Cor was within earshot.

“Of course,” Cor confirmed, brows furrowed “I will protect them, all of them, with my life.” 

“He’ll need someone to show him the Royal Arms, explain their significance to him.” It was something Regis had been meaning to do for years now but had been putting off in the hopes that he would be able to delay the inevitable. After all, what use was a Chosen King when he did not have the power of his ancestors at his beck and call?

Reaching out a hand Cor placed it on his right shoulder “Noctis won’t go unprepared,” He promised. 

“They will be fine Regis,” Clarus reassured him as he moved to join the pair, though Regis was quite certain that the reaffirmation was just as much for himself as his King “We’ve prepared them well enough and they are far more than capable then we were when your father sent us out beyond the Wall. Even Prompto.”

“What he lacks in training he more than makes up for in determination,” Cor grunted, raising an eyebrow as though daring Clarus to challenge his decision to allow the boy to travel with Noctis and his retainers. 

“You would not have let him go with them if you didn’t think he was skilled enough to do so,” Regis said to Cor, squeezing the hand on his shoulder before turning on his heels and slowly making his way back inside, “I just worry about them.”

“As any father would,” Clarus said “But this was, is, the right decision. Keeping them in the Citadel would have only put their lives in danger and spread our already thin resources, thinner.”

Cor sighed heavily, interjecting before either man could continue “I still wish that you would reconsider my posting. I would be of more use at your side rather than on the outskirts of the city.”

“You’re the only one I’d trust my children with Cor,” Clarus retorted, waving away Drautos as the man approached the trio. “Even if that is primarily because I know that leaving them with anyone else would send the poor soul to the brink of insanity.” 

“You say that as though I’m not already there,” Cor snorted, bumping Clarus aside so he could hold the door open for the King and his Shield.

“As true as we all know that to be, there is still no one I would rather entrust the lives of our people to should this all go to hell.” Regis said with a smile.

“They need their King,” Cor argued, he paused to give Drautos a nod before following Regis and Clarus inside.

Regis sighed heavily “I would prefer it if you were both as far from Insomnia as possible-“

“And abandon my King?” Clarus hissed, aware that raising his voice to the King in public would not be to his advantage, “I think not.”

The look Regis gave him in response would have had a lesser man trembling “That does not mean I cannot wish that you would abandon your honour for once and leave with Iris and Cor.”

Realising that it would do no good for the King and Shield to be seen arguing in the middle of the corridor, Cor slid between them. “This is a conversation to be had away from prying eyes.”

Clarus opened his mouth to respond but quickly closed it when he noticed Drautos and a small group of Glaives enter behind them. Nodding in agreement he moved around Cor to place a hand on Regis’ lower back and usher him on. The King chuckled softly as he complied with Clarus’ silent request and began stiffly limping towards the elevator. 

Once Regis was several paces ahead of them Cor turned to Clarus and hissed in his ear “Don’t provoke him,” He all but begged “That is the last thing any of us need right now. I know you’re worried about Gladiolus and Iris, but I will protect them Clarus.”

“I know,” Clarus relented, patting Cor’s hand before gently pushing past him to catch up with Regis “But that doesn’t stop me from worrying.” 

“Of course, it doesn’t,” Cor agreed “Nothing will, and if it did you wouldn’t be a very good father.”

“You questioning my parenting skills now Marshal?” Clarus teased.

“I would never.” The duel snorts from both Regis and Clarus had Cor smirking. “Clarus’ questionable parenting aside, I suppose the boys are finally getting that trip beyond the Wall that Noctis has been nagging you about.” 

“Gladiolus has spent the last month complaining about Noctis’ whining,” Clarus chimed in with a chuckle “Apparently, he didn’t appreciate Prompto’s suggestion about using one of those child’s games. Gods, what are they called? Those ones with the little plastic fish and the magnetic rods?”

“Let’s go fishing?” Both Cor and Clarus looked at Regis with raised eyebrows “Don’t look at me like that, I know things.”

“Children’s toys?” 

“Just because you’re my Shield doesn’t mean I won’t kick you in the shins.”

“And ruin your perfect image? Gods forbid.” 

“I wonder what the Lucian populace would think if they knew the two men running their country bickered like a couple of toddlers.” 

Clarus barked a laugh, punching Cor in the shoulder “Look who’s talking! I still have that video of you and Drautos having a fight over the last cup of coffee.”

“Coffee is a blessing and a sacred gift that must not be squandered.” 

“See? Regis gets me.” 

“That’s because you are both addicts.” The middle finger was to be expected and if Clarus was completely honest with himself, highly deserved. 

“I swear upon the Crystal Clarus, if you are about to perform an intervention on today of all days, I will throw you out of the nearest window,” Regis warned, glaring at the larger man. 

“There’s a lot of windows to choose from,” Cor commented, glancing at the numerous windows lining the corridor. 

“You could,” Clarus agreed “But you’d incur the wrath of the maintenance team and correct me if I’m wrong, but I think Gaius may wring our necks if he gets any more complaints from them about property destruction.” The horror on Cor’s face made Regis wish he had a camera.

“That was not my fault.” Was Cor’s hissed response “I didn’t know how strong that alcohol was, and I swear that statue was moved there to make my life hell.”

“Cor,” Clarus deadpanned, leaning around Regis to stare at him “Anything that’s glowing green and is called ‘Nuclear Cactuar’ is guaranteed to be awful.”

“And not to provoke you but that statue of my father has been there for nearly ten years now.” Was Regis’ interjection.

“This is a conspiracy; you are both trying to make me out to be a mad man.” Striding past the other two Cor swiftly closed the distance between himself and the elevator, stabbing the button several times.

“We’ve already established that Cor,” Clarus joked “And as much of a miracle as it would be, pressing that more than once isn’t going to summon the elevator any quicker.”

As the two continued to bicker and taunt one another, Regis allowed himself to drift off into his thoughts. It was painfully obvious that the two were attempting to distract him from his melancholy, to bring up memories of happier times when they could pretend if only for a few hours that the world wasn’t being torn asunder beyond the Wall. Looking at the men standing before him, he smiled sadly. These men, his brothers, had stood by him through the toughest of times. They had been the ones to pull him from the darkness when the pain of Aulea’s death had become too much. It was they who had fought beside him for nearly forty years. Clarus who had spent hours teaching Regis to appreciate himself and acknowledge that his father was wrong, that he was worth loving and was a far greater and kinder man than Mors could ever have hoped to be. It had been Cor who made him re-evaluate his outlook on life. The dirty fourteen-year-old who had come crashing into his life with the determination of a battle-hardened veteran and the innocence of a scared child. His grim optimism and ability to see positives in the direst of situations was something Regis’ younger self had latched onto and forced himself to adopt. If a child from such a dark world could find the positives in life, so could he.

It was Clarus and Cor who had remained by his side when all others fell away. 

When Weskham remained in Altissia, they had made jokes and attempted to fill the gap with their admittedly atrocious cooking. 

Following his fight with Cid and the older man's departure from Insomnia, it was they who allowed themselves to be beaten into the ground until the anger had dissipated leaving them bloody and beaten, and yet they’d still wrapped themselves around their Prince as he sobbed out apologies – clinging to them as though they too would vanish. 

The day Aulea passed, Cor had dealt with the removal of her body and investigation while Clarus packed a bag and escorted Regis and his newborn son to his own home. They moved quickly and efficiently, rooting out the truth and acting upon it, leaving him to his grief in the gentle care of Camilla Amicitia who essentially became a second mother to Noctis.

It was they who still stood by his side following his son’s departure and the impending destruction of everything they knew and loved. And for what? Honour? A misguided sense of loyalty? It made no sense. Should they choose to, they could walk away, turn their backs on him and escape with the children, start new lives for themselves outside of Insomnia. Yet they remained by his side, unphased at the prospect of death.

Their love and dedication were…overwhelming.

“Regis?” Clarus’ voice and the accompanying hand on his shoulder tore him from his thoughts. Returning his attention to the pair and swallowing thickly, he focused on the concerned faces of his brothers. The elevator doors being held open behind Cor by an outstretched leg. “Everything okay?” No. No, it was not and likely would never be.

“Everything’s fine,” He said with a forced smile, reaching out to pet Clarus’ hand. To their credit, neither commented on the tears in his eyes, instead, Cor stepped aside and gestured to the elevator. 

He hadn’t loved the world as he should have. Hadn’t shown his son the care and affection his precious boy deserved, and to many of the people, he was a merciless ruler who cared little for the Lucian people as a whole. The death and suffering he was about to bring upon his people with the upcoming farce of a treaty would haunt him in the remainder of this life and the next, but with his brothers by his side, he would face it all with his head held high. It was the least he could do for two men who had given so much without ever asking for something in return.

“I know it’s not noon yet, but I still have a bottle of my father’s whiskey in my office,” Clarus offered, smiling at the pair as the elevator doors slid shut. Chuckling, Regis leant into the warmth of his Shield’s body, relaxing when a familiar arm wrapped around his shoulders. His son was safe in the hands of his friends and for the next few days would enjoy the happiness Regis had hoped he would always experience. His brothers stood by his side, prepared to face the oncoming storm with a fierce determination. 

He could only hope their sacrifice would be worth it and that he would find forgiveness for his actions in the afterlife.


End file.
